Page 38 of Her Fantasy Husband

He shrugged. “Some little rich bitch who wanted money so she could party harder.”

“And are you so sure I don’t party?”

She certainly didn’t spend her money on clothes or jewelry. “Why did you marry me?”

She put down the half-eaten slice of pizza and stared off over his left shoulder while she gathered her thoughts. “To piss my grandmother off.”

Whatever he’d been expecting it wasn’t that. He’d be the first to admit he didn’t know his wife well, but she didn’t come across in any way malicious.

“I told myself I had all sorts of other reasons,” she continued, “but deep down, at rock bottom, I did it because it was the one thing I knew would hurt her.” She gave a rueful smile. “She was never particularly fond of me but she did like my money and while I lived with her she had access to income from my trust fund. I think she and Daniel had this weird idea that they could persuade me that marrying Harry was a good idea. They thought they had six years to wear me down.”

The thought of them pressurizing her to marry that prick had his hackles rising. “But something must have triggered it.”

A flash of real emotion crossed her face. Anger or sadness. Maybe a mix of both. “She killed my dog.”

“What?”

“She had him put down while I was in my last term at boarding school. Jasper was old—he’d been a present from my dad, the last thing he gave me before he died—but he was still healthy. I’d argued with her—she wanted me to move to New York when she married Daniel. I’d told her that I wanted to stay in England—I’d been offered a place at Oxford.”

“So she had your dog put down?”What a bitch!

“She was making a point. Unfortunately it wasn’t the point she intended. I decided then that she wasn’t having any more control over me.” She nibbled a piece of pizza. “Then Daniel suggested that he could prevent her from doing anything like that again if I was a littlefriendlierwith him.”

Shock flashed through him, followed by a wave of anger, and his fists curled on the table. “What?”

She grinned at that. “Yeah. Never going to happen. Anyway, at first I thought I’d let them go off to New York. I’d take my place at Oxford. I could get a job, leave the whole horrid mess behind and forget about them. But then I needed some money, and she wouldn’t release it.”

“What for?”

“Well, not partying. I used to volunteer at this rescue center. They had a fire and were going to have to close down. I wanted to help. My grandmother thought it a bad investment. I talked to Uncle Jamie, but he didn’t think the trust could be broken.”

She’d finally finished the pizza and sat back with her glass of red wine. She sipped it. “I wassoangry. I’d never felt like that before. Furious. I told Uncle Jamie that I was going to find a man to marry me. He didn’t believe me at first, but I must have convinced him—or scared him enough to take me seriously. He said he’d find me someone suitable. Someone who wouldn’t try to cheat me or take advantage of me.” She cast him a pointed look. “Or try and divorce me before my twenty-fourth birthday.” She smiled sweetly. “That’s you.”

James Frobisher had been his commanding officer in the SAS. One of the few men Josh truly admired.

“So, you see,” she continued. “You really do have an obligation. You promised me five years and five months. You’re a man of honor—Jamie said so. You’re duty-bound to not let me down.” She gave him a narrow-eyed stare. “Certainly not for something as shallow as no-strings-sex.”

He hated that she had a point, but she did. When he’d decided this, he’d presumed that whatever reason she’d married him no longer existed. He’d thought he would get no opposition.

But Christ, he wanted that sex.

He had a flashback to the feel of her hot, tight pussy around him, her little moans as she came so sweetly for him. He shifted in his seat.

“So did you save your dogs’ home?”

She gave him a wide grin. “I did.” After swallowing the last of her wine, she put the glass on the table, then bent down and rummaged in her bag, pulling out a laptop. “I wanted to show you some of the work we’ve been doing.”

“We?”

“My team. I set up a registered charity a few years back. We provide funding for all sorts of things, including a string of no-kill rescue centers around the country. But stuff overseas as well. We build schools, train teachers, employ vets who work in places where the animals would likely not get any treatment otherwise. We’ve dug wells, planted trees, trained farmers.” She tapped a few keys on the laptop, then turned it around and pushed it toward him.

He scanned the information quickly; it was a list of current projects, and he clicked the links on a couple and read the details—an agricultural training center in Zambia, a cooperative fishing venture in Malawi… He glanced up and found her watching him eagerly. It was clear she was passionate about what she did.

“Just how much money do you have, Lexi?”

Her smile widened. “I’m not sure exactly, but lots. Millions. My dad was in right at the beginning of the internet companies. And he was super clever. When he died, the companies were sold—Jamie had no interest in running them—and the money put into the trust.”

“Are you likely to run out any time soon?”